Fires of Eden
by SharkyWaters
Summary: Shattered by loss, a Charmeleon looks through the short pages of her mentor's old diary, finding them nearly empty, with his last words being for her to tell a story. She picks up his old pen and, after months, finds out how to even begin. (WIP, a writing test for myself.)
1. Extended Introduction

The hardest part to come to me when I got his journal was to pick up his pen. It was there in the yellowed parchment, it was his last request, I'd be damned not to honor it, but my heart ached each time my claws gripped around it.

"Eden, of all the ones who admired me, you intrigued me the most. I know this is likely to be my last excursion, dear charmeleon, so I must ask you a favor, in my absence. Tell the story you wish to tell in these pages, mine has, at long last, come to its close."

But what story was there to tell! My feats were overshadowed by his, my tutor, my trainer, my dearest friend and my closest colleague, and I was to write of my own stories?! The ones he helped make?!

That's when it hit me, like the tail of a particularly clumsy garchomp, strong and very obvious, that perhaps that's what he intended. For a man so entranced with his legacy, he had never wrote much down in this old thing anyways, three or four pages in all the years he had it? The sceptile could've been more clear that he didn't want to tell his story, he wanted someone else to tell the story of how he changed them! He... he always said that I had changed for the best out of all of them…

So I'll scrawl in these pages the stories I have of him, of how he created who I am now, and what better place to start than the day he saved me from myself?


	2. Arret

Sketch: http/imgur(dot)com/a/wqvUJSg

 **[Another short chapter, my inspiration comes in bursts, so maybe it will be more appropriate to tell it like this. This chapter is meant to explain how she knows the owner of the journal.]**

It felt like a sin to drag his pen across the pages like I did, but someone had to write it all down. He couldn't. I sat in my home, the stone walls lit only by the flames of my tail, a part of my body that's grown ever more volatile in the wake of my emotions. I fear that it may singe the book, writing it all down again won't feel the same without the smooth reeds that were used to make it.

He made it himself. It, with its pen, was his last gift to me.

It came to me that the first gift he gave to me would be the best place to start, but over the night I've realized that it isn't, I want this journal to remain immortal, so they need to understand of all the things that had happened in this world… Things they could have forgotten, or the things they didn't care to remember.

And so began my first sentences.

 _"The last words he had written in here mentioned a dear charmeleon, Eden. True to his final request, though it has taken three months since, I shall tell his story with the very pen he used to ask me to."_

I immediately felt anxiety rush over me as I looked back at my ragged letters and checked through what I had put on the page, making sure that it seemed sensible, before dismissing the idea, how would I know how to write like he did! He told stories the best I've ever heard!

But that is no matter, I have to continue.

 _"I do not know when you will read this, who you are, and what you know, but I live in a tropical part of our world, surrounded by islands and bathed in sunlight year-round. The sceptile and I lived in a town east of my new home, everyone simply called it Home, we could never think of a better name as it was the only port in a storm in this land! Those who found themselves here didn't know a way back, including myself."_

They came, I knew they would. Emotions burst from my heart and tears welled up in my eyes as I reminisced the first time I met Arret. He still carried this book even back then! How did he only fill so few pages, did he see something in me?

 _"Storms have been ravaging the ocean rather frequently as of late, and I knew it was a bad idea to get on one. A charmeleon? At sea? I despise being near puddles or out in the rain! But back then I wasn't so afraid of water, I thought the tail thing was just"_

I sighed and looked up from my tears, chuckling a bit as I thought of my own foolishness, the very thing that led me to this place.

 _"a myth, made up by a protective mother to prevent me from running off all the time. Even now the idea of living in a tropical place seems ludicrous, but I will not leave the friends I have now, and I will never give up hope for his safe return, no matter how impossible he claimed it to be."_

Another heartache came to mind as the last words flowed from my mind, only really appearing in my thoughts as I read over, sighing. I wish I went with him, at least I would not be without him like I am now, no matter the danger!

 _"But this story is about him, and all I can tell was from when I first met him to the day he had left. This port was exactly where the first had began. The ship I went out on never arrived to its destination, crashing upon the jagged rocks of Home's coast, while an uncommon experience for its inhabitants, Home was ready for us._

 _I heard that the lives of people I never met were lost that night. That night was one of the few times I've ever seen Arret cry. In my fleeting consciousness I saw the of mourning of the dead, but also a measure of relief, I would learn in the future that the relief was because he had saved the passenger that had no hope left for her._

 _I remember him mentioning how dim my flame was, something about it being the last coal of a dying fire. When he had seen that my flame was stable again, he pressed something to my claw and held it there, lifting my arm so i could see it._

 _It was an emblem, meant to be worn on one's upper arm or shoulder, and I could faintly hear the words, 'Welcome to Home, charmeleon, you'll have to learn to be a 'hero' too, soon…' the last of it all slips my mind, as I slipped from the waking world._

 _I wish I could only describe the sight of it, but that's been lost to time."_

My heart pounded as I thought of that night. Never had I been so scared in the past, but now I look back at it fondly… It's been years since I've seen mother. While I wonder how she is, but there's no getting off here now. Those days seemed so frightening whenever I went through them, but now they are something I can look back to with comfort, though it breaks my heart.

I looked to my shoulder, running the blunt end of my claws over the fabric of it, I've repaired it more times than I can count, but the emblem on it I've never changed. It looks worn, but I'd never have it any other way.

That boat had left me in the middle of nowhere, where everything that mattered to me was now.


End file.
